


Dance With Me

by bacchanalia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, sex in second half!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacchanalia/pseuds/bacchanalia
Summary: Coran is easily the most outrageous and gaudy ballet instructor Keith has ever had, and he's positive that at this rate, they'll never be able to put on Swan Lake. But when his guest instructor is Shiro who looks like he's been sculpted by the Gods, Keith isn't sure his attention span is being done any favors.Ballet AU commission for @silkshiro on twitter!





	Dance With Me

The moment Keith saw him he knew, with all intents and purposes, that he wanted this man to fill every orifice of his body. Did that sound sleazy? Whatever. Sue a guy for knowing what he wants. With broad, chiseled shoulders leading way to a sculpted back that would shame Atlas, the dude rivaled a Greek god. He walked to the front of the decently sized dance room as Keith watched, happily letting his eyes fall to yet another perfect  _ ass _ et. Damn-- dancers had incredible bodies. Keith thought this to himself as if he were excluded from it, but having done ballet and dance seriously for almost as long as he could remember, he knew his own figure was nothing to be shy about. 

“Alright, class! Everyone listen up! Chop, chop!” Coran’s voice cut through the choir of angels singing hymns of praise in his mind, and immediately Keith’s nose scrunched as his eyes were assaulted by his instructor’s ridiculous tie-dyed neon leotard. Definitely would have prefered staring at the new guy. Honestly, who even wore that? His outfit looked like Lisa Frank had too much to drink one night and vomited all over the eighties. He even completed his look with leg warmers and a matching sweat band across his forehead. Speaking of the eighties,  If Keith had to describe Coran in one sentence, he’d say he was the overly excited guy who led one of the workout tapes from that decade that gave you second-hand embarrassment. 

A total cringe-fest, in other words. 

Still, he decided to pay attention now because it probably involved the most attractive man he’d ever seen in his life and Keith would be flat out lying if he acted like he wasn’t interested in hearing about him. 

“This here’s Shiro.” Coran clapped a hand onto the guy--  _ Shiro’s _ shoulder. “I’ve brought him in as a guest instructor since you all seem to be too young to appreciate my techniques, and we need the best of the best for our production of Swan Lake!” He said this while stroking one side of his outrageously large mustache, and Keith felt his face twist in distaste at the sight. If the class being too young was the only thing separating them from understanding Coran, it would be news to Keith. For the past string of weeks that they’d been practicing in anticipation for casting, Keith had never seen half of the things Coran had insisted were ‘classic, by the book methods’. 

Sure, maybe if titling jumping progressions as ‘Flying Kangaroos’ or plies as ‘Frog Time’ was textbook stuff, Keith would have found no issue. But honestly it felt like Coran had somehow managed to become a professional dancer without learning any of the proper verbiage, and had perfected a talent of equating every instruction to a story that always began with ‘back in my day’. If a guest instructor was going to come in and clean up shop so to speak, Keith’s hope for actually pulling off the production might be revived from the dead. In the least, the man was much easier on the eyes. Had he said that already?

“Your teaching can be a bit...out there, Coran.” Shiro laughed as he spoke and Keith felt it flood into his ears, saturating his insides with a euphoric voice that he already knew he wasn’t going to be able to get enough of. Was it weird to crush this hard on someone so soon? Keith didn’t know, after all he wasn’t a dating expert by far. Hell, with how much dancing took up his schedule, that area of his life was regrettably barren. So he was weak to the new meat, there was nothing wrong with that. 

He could also stare at him...there was nothing wrong with that either.

That was, until Shiro caught him in the act. Their eyes met only briefly as Shiro scanned over the students; it was a gaze that held fractionally, but Keith felt it was longer than the rest. Or maybe he was imagining things. When Shiro continued his rounds, Keith smoothed his hands down over the black leotard he wore, ensuring that his breathing wouldn’t be elevated over something as simple as eye contact. What was he, fifteen? Hell no. 

_ Get a grip, Keith _ . Was his thought as he continued with their exercises and definitely wasn’t staring while Coran spoke to Shiro in hushed tones about who knows what. After what seemed like twenty or so minutes, Keith was almost to his wits end with doing barre for over an hour when Shiro’s voice cut through his irritation. 

“Keith. Your grand battement is off.” His leg, previously lifted in the air to complete the pose faltered, as did his footing. What? Maybe it was arrogance talking, but Keith had been told numerous times over how proficient of a dancer he was. He knew the techniques, the poses-- especially things as simple as barre exercises. So, it went without saying that the narrowing of his eyes and the furrow in his brow was equally due to confusion as it was to petulance, and he responded in a tone fitting for that. 

“ _ What _ ?” Once out of his mouth it sounded a bit more confrontational than he would have hoped, but Keith had never claimed himself to have any magnitude of social prowess. Multiple sets of eyes turned his way after he’d spoken, though most continued with their business only seconds after. If there was anything about ballet that he appreciated, it was that most people were too focused on their own perfection to worry about anyone else’s. 

Shiro simply raised a brow at the opposition, his defined arms folding over one another in a simple gait that was a challenge in itself. Shiro looked so confident, so sure of himself, and despite the very real tumultuous wave of attraction that rolled through Keith’s belly, it was aggravating. 

“You heard me, your battement was off. Your ankle bends the higher you lift your leg. Did you stretch enough?” Of course he stretched-- what kind of question was that, anyways?

“I stretched just fine.” A small part of him didn’t understand why he was only making this worse for himself. Nobody spoke back to their instructors unless they wanted to be kicked out. At this rate, Keith was well on his way to having that happen but for some reason he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth like a landslide. 

“If that’s the case, then it looks like you just need more practice.” Why did Shiro’s voice have to sound so reassuring as he said something so humiliating for him? It made it difficult to be angry over the callout yet somehow even more frustrated. As if his image of his own abilities were being damaged in real-time. Instead of letting it go, however, Keith decided to dig his grave even further. Crossing his own arms and letting a smirk tug at the corners of his lips, Keith spoke. 

“Maybe I just need an example.” It wasn’t a difficult challenge by far, but call Keith an asshole, he wanted to make sure the guy could practice what he preached. And, well… Okay, maybe he wanted to see a body like Shiro’s twisting and bending. With a raise of a brow, Shiro pushed away from where he’d been leaning against the wall at the front of the room. The man wore an expression Keith couldn’t entirely place, but he was certain it wasn’t a bad one. Amusement? Maybe that was it. But despite the fact that they were both in a room with multiple other people it still felt private. Is this what flirting felt like? Keith didn’t know. Probably not.  _ Probably _ this was just an instructor excited to put a student firmly in their place. 

Actually, Keith wouldn’t mind letting Shiro do just that to him by different means. 

Then, in a motion as fluid and graceful as Keith could have imagined, Shiro was gripping the bar in a strong vice and bending in such a way that had his leg almost vertically parallel to the wall-- all the while maintaining eye contact. Keith shifted in place, noticing that the rest of the class had turned their attention now, and were equally impressed with the sight before them. Shiro held the pose, deepened it, then returned to a normal standing position as a light round of applause followed him. The flush that blossomed across Keith’s cheeks was definitely  _ not _ due to being effortlessly showed up. He turned away from Shiro’s gaze, hopefully before it could be seen. 

The rest of practice passed in a blur that had Keith focused on nothing more aside from perfection. Even after everyone had packed their belongings and Coran had signaled the end of their session with too-loud clapping and praise via megaphone (why did he even have that in a room made with acoustics in mind?), Keith had remained where he’d been, unwilling to leave the spot until he was certain his form was perfect. It was ridiculous, to think he had to be absolutely flawless, but even the thought of being told in front of the class again that he had done something incorrectly had him shuddering. Granted, it had been the only criticism he’d received, and they’d done much more complicated techniques after completing barre, but it didn’t matter. He was stubborn like that. 

The room cleared beneath Keith’s notice, his eyes trained on the mirrored wall before him as his body bent and bowed into various positions ending in the battement. He frowned, inspecting it further until he became detached from the fact that the body before him was his own. Footsteps broke his concentration, and a glance up had his heart-rate increasing. Shiro stood in the doorway with another look that fell just outside of Keith’s abilities to place. 

“So, you  _ are _ dedicated.” Shiro spoke with nonchalance despite the admittance that he’d assumed Keith to be flippant when it came to dancing. Nothing could have been farther from the truth, of course, and the assumption sent an irritated wave through his body. Who did this guy think he was, anyways? 

“Did you think I wasn’t?” Keith continued his previous exercises, making it a point to not stop everything he was doing just because Shiro happened to be there. Besides, it helped that he was staring at his feet as opposed to the hot as all hell teacher that was currently grating on his nerves and pride. And maybe it wasn’t even Shiro, maybe it was the fact that Keith enjoyed showing off and his opportunities to do so were shot down the moment he was labeled as a work in progress when it came to ballet. Lucky for him, however, it only made him want to try harder. 

“I think you’ve got a lot of pride.” Shiro was moving closer to him, inspecting his form. His eyes fell and clung to Keith’s body as if they were the spandex of the leotard he wore, and seeing it made Keith’s heart flip-flop in his chest. He’d been so caught up in the embarrassment from class that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he might be as attractive to Shiro as Shiro was to him. But… could he be? Keith brought his eyes to Shiro’s and held the gaze. 

“I do ballet. Of course I’ve got pride. You don’t?” Shiro chuckled at that. 

“Touch é .” 

“If you still think my form’s off, you could show me how it’s done again.” Now, he thought, as Keith let his lips quirk upwards into a smirk, he was flirting. Shiro met his expression with the barest hints of uncertainty, but continued forward nonetheless until him and Keith were only about a foot apart. In the quiet, empty dance room, Keith thought he might be able to hear their hearts beating together if he were to listen hard enough. 

“How about…” Shiro started, taking a few steps to circle Keith as if he were sizing him up. “...I  _ help _ you with your form instead.” It wasn’t a front-row seat to watch Shiro’s body moving again, but was Keith strong enough to turn down one-on-one teaching? No. Also, he wasn’t an idiot, and only an idiot would say ‘no’ to being alone in a room for any length of time with Shiro. 

“I guess I can allow that.” Keith mentioned playfully, surprised when Shiro shortened the distance between them to only a handful of inches. 

“Show me grande battement, then.” Keith would be lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little flustered with Shiro standing so close with his voice so deep and his presence so  _ there _ , but his grip on the barre tightened as he began to bend, eyes maintaining contact all the while his leg raised into position. 

“How’s this, teach?” The comment left Keith’s lips just a moment before his breath hitched. Shiro’s hand made contact with Keith’s raised thigh, sliding along it and pressing to force Keith further into the pose. The fingers splayed out on his nylon-covered flesh, gripping it just enough to dominate every aspect of Keith’s thoughts, his footing faltered slightly in response. 

“Focus. Can you go deeper?” If there was ever a euphemism that shot directly to his groin, it would be Shiro’s sexy baritone saying just that. Could he go deeper? Probably. But his mind was currently caught up imagining Shiro’s cock pounding into him from this very position with Keith not having to worry about begging for depth. Shiro would have a big dick. Keith was positive of that. Just looking at him couldn’t bring any other conclusion,  _ ever _ ; he was sure of this. Oh, but he was definitely getting distracted with how overwhelmingly gay he was and Shiro was pressing on his leg more with his voice sounding like it was honey dripping into his ear: sweet and thick and slow. 

“Yeah…” He nodded, moving with Shiro’s guiding hand just as the man’s second came up to support his lower abdomen. Doing this position with his leg bending backwards kept their distance manageable, with enough space for Keith to think clearly without going insane. He felt completely torn on whether he’d want Shiro to move him into a front bend even if he could get his leg much higher that way. 

“That’s good, Keith. You’re doing really well.” The praise clouded his mind, flushed his cheeks, it tingled over his limbs in a way that made him want to do even better. “Can you show me  á  la Seconde?” He straightened his back, dealing with the fact that Shiro’s hand did not shy in the slightest and even fell lower to his upper thigh. Keith turned in the grip, until he was facing Shiro and his leg was almost parallel to the wall. Shiro’s eyes were different now, almost darkened with the intimacy of their positions. It put Keith at mild ease to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity. His breath left him in a controlled exhale, desperate not to give away just how erotic his mind made this out to be. He had to keep in mind that Shiro was an instructor helping a pupil, nothing more. 

Right? 

“How’s this?” Keith let his eyes fall to Shiro’s lips for only a moment as his leg straightened further, perfectly vertical against his shoulder. The thin spandex that was definitely not created with modesty in mind would leave absolutely nothing to the imagination if he were to get hard right now, and Keith internally mulled over the pros and cons of fighting his body desires as he thought of how easy it would be for Shiro to press flush against him, pin him to the wall and… 

When Shiro’s grip shifted and pushed Keith’s leg a bit farther than was expected, Keith surprised both of them by letting out a soft whine at the stretch. The sound seemed to hang between them for what felt like hours, heavy as if it were draped over them and forcing Keith to fight harder for an intake of breath. As quickly as it had left his lips, however, Shiro was moving back from him.

“I should… get going…” Keith felt all the hopes he’d gotten up against his better judgment deflate instantly, and he slowly moved back out of the position. There must have been disappointment to some extent written on Keith’s face (though who could blame him, really?) because Shiro was following up to his previous awkward statement. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “...expect you to have perfect form for me next class.” Perfect form for  _ him _ . Yeah, Keith could do that. 

“Or you’ll have to tutor me again?” Keith let the coy tone to his voice return, and Shiro smiled with a slight shake of his head. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Keith decided then and there that he definitely wasn’t going to leave this production without fucking his teacher in every position Shiro could push him into. 

 

The next series of practices passed in a distracted blur. Keith knew very well that paying attention and showing off his skills to Coran would be vital if he wanted to land the lead role (which he did), but that didn’t stop him from getting caught up in Shiro’s gaze that locked with his every so often. Call it cliche, but Keith could have sworn he felt time slow in those moments, as if with every spin he was in orbit waiting to return to Shiro’s eyes--

Holy shit that sounded so sappy and over-the-top. Nevermind. 

The point was that Keith was staring a lot and it was starting to make his chest feel tight which definitely wasn’t doing any favors for his concentration. He could always blame Shiro for that instead of forcing himself to pry his eyes away and focus, though. 

After class he spent countless hours alone by the mirror, practicing and practicing combinations of moves that he knew better than the back of his hand. It made time fly well enough, after all it wasn’t as if he had much to go home to. Well, that was a lie. He did have an orange tabby named Red that could never decided if he loved Keith or hated him. Cats were finicky like that, he’d heard. Still, it didn’t matter how often he practised; Keith still watched the doorway in the mirror to see if Shiro would appear within in. 

When he finally did, it was when Keith felt like he was at his wits end with trying to do a partner routine by himself. Sure, he could imagine where there was supposed to be someone there to catch him, and count correctly in time to continue with the choreography after the fact, but after doing that upwards of thirty times it was safe to say he was frustrated.

He caught Shiro’s eyes in the mirror as he frowned and tried to catch his breath. 

“You’re overworking yourself.” Shiro mentioned to him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (and as if Keith didn’t already know that) which only earned him a scowl.    

“If I don’t, then the lead will go to someone else.” He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, sweat sticking his hair in place as he did so. 

“You want to dance for Siegfried?” It came with an arch of his brow, one that caused Keith to feel the beginnings of embarrassment, though it was short-lived. 

“No, I want to dance for Odette.” It wasn’t weird for him to want the casting that was typically female, and he was confident enough in his masculinity to admit to it. His stature was better suited for Odette anyways, and he knew damn well he could pull off the moves needed for her with the stamina to back it up. These were typically the lines of defenses he pulled out whenever the subject was broached, considering Keith was no stranger to the menagerie of awkward looks he’d receive after telling people. 

But Shiro didn’t give him a strange look or ask if he’d thought it over or mention that the role was typically reserved strictly for women. All he did was look Keith up and down before smiling in a way that made Keith’s heart melt.

“I think white feathers will really suit you.” Shiro had this dry sense of humor that Keith was just beginning to understand, but he knew the playfulness by the infinitesimal upward quirk of his lip, and glint in his eyes. 

“Yeah? I was more looking forward to the black ones after the costume switch. Think they’ll bring out my eyes more.” 

“They do that on their own.” Keith felt his cheeks threaten to heat noticeably at the compliment, and he turned to regard Shiro in a way that made it clear he was studying him, trying to see where he stood when it came to comments like that. If Keith let his imagination run wild, he’d say Shiro was definitely into him and he definitely had a chance. However, the guy had left him high and dry (literally. Who breathes that sexy and close to someone then just walks away?), and he was technically his teacher. 

Kinky. 

But instead of continuing the flirting that they were both obviously enjoying, Keith decided to take a chance and let himself show a bit of his bold nature that was typically reserved for things outside of ballet.

“Dance with me.”

Shiro raised a brow and said, “When?” 

“Now. Act four.” It was one of the most emotional acts in the play. Siegfried, after finding out that he’d been dancing with an evil double of Odette, returns to the Lake of Swans to find her grieving and resigned to death. In the throes of passionate apologies, Siegfried and Odette reaffirm their love for each other in a beautiful display of movement. Shiro came closer to him, wasting no time in placing one of his hands on the small of Keith’s waist; the simple touch made him shiver and Keith hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. 

“I haven’t practiced the choreography.” Even though he said it, Keith could tell it wasn’t entire truthful, it was like when people said they weren’t sure if they could do something and then they’d proceed to pull it off effortlessly. But when Shiro did it he could tell it didn’t come from a place of arrogance so he smiled and raised a challenging brow. 

“Oh? Mr. Badass Instructor gonna let himself get shown up by a student?” 

“You think I’m badass?” 

_ I think you’re gorgeous.  _ Keith wanted to say, but settled instead for “Among other things.” 

Shiro chuckled at that, and his voice was such a deliciously smooth baritone that Keith decided he definitely needed to make more commentary if only to hear more of that. 

“You’ll have to lead.” Shiro spoke it close to his ear as Keith tried to maintain his focus. He could do that. And he did. 

Keith reset his stereo, and in  the subsequent silence that filled the room could have sworn that he could hear his own heart. The only hope he had was that Shiro wouldn’t be able to hear it too. It was already embarrassing enough that Shiro had him acting and feeling like a lovesick puppy, he didn’t need to add an audibly erratic heartbeat to the mix. 

The music kicked up a beat later, and Shiro’s hands slid over Keith’s skin just beneath the thin layer of black spandex, giving him the support he’d need to bend and flow with the final act’s score. Truth be told, Keith didn’t even like Swan Lake. Most classic ballets weren’t in his taste, actually. It wasn’t that anything was  _ wrong _ with them, just that they tended to be boring. But he loved the dance even if it made him feel like his feet were meant to be graceful jackhammers with the way he was moving, and having Shiro dance opposite him made it possible for him to ignore the outdated storyline.

Like, why didn’t Odette just call Siegfried out on his shit instead of running off to kill herself? Wasn’t she supposed to be a Queen? Or was it a Princess? Keith wasn’t sure which anymore, but the point was that anyone who was in a position to rule should definitely be able to handle some dude dancing with an imposter. But, anyways… 

Shiro’s muscular arm wrapped around his waist just as the music called for a spinning move that had Keith’s entire body suspended, bending backwards at such a sharp angle that he must look like a pretty version of a ‘greater than’ sign. At first, he tried not to think about how Shiro was strong enough to hold him up with one arm, but that idea flew out the window faster than Odette’s survival instincts. Instead, he couldn’t help but focus on it. The way he could feel every press of each fingertip gripping him, their bodies twirling until the pose ended with them chest-to-chest. 

Keith stared at Shiro, his mouth parted slightly in order to bring in more oxygen. This dance was strenuous and exhilarating at the same time, and the way that the music dipped and upped in tempo matched perfectly to their twining bodies. Dancing itself was a pastime that Keith didn’t ever think he’d get over, but dancing with a partner was always borderline euphoric. Shiro took hold of the inside of Keith’s upper thigh just as it was lifted, pushing his body into a bend that surpassed the barre exercise he’d been criticized for previously. He felt Shiro come closer, wondered if the man was just as taken with their movements as he was, and pressed his lips to the shell of Keith’s ear. 

“You’re a beautiful dancer, Keith.” The praise hummed through his body, flushed his cheeks; it made Keith want to do nothing more than to continue in a way that caused words like that to tumble endlessly from Shiro’s mouth. Was there a word for that? When you basically got a mindgasm from being told what a  _ good boy _ you were? Oh well. 

“You’re beautiful in general.” It came out before he could filter or stop it, not thinking about how Shiro would take to being called that. He could have used handsome, or sexy, or gorgeous, but his brain was practically short-circuiting from Shiro’s presence overwhelming him so sue him for piggy-backing on the same compliment. Luckily for Keith, Shiro didn’t seem to mind, and spun them into the next move that had Keith’s leg vertically aligned with Shiro’s chest, pressed so flush against him that Keith swore he could feel the definition of Shiro’s torso against his dick. That was dangerous proximity. Nobody was good enough to hide a hardon in spandex.

Shiro dipped after him, his hands supporting Keith’s back as he followed the backwards motion that had their faces so close together Keith felt their breath mingling; and despite being well-versed in this pose, he had no idea how he was managing to maintain his footing when all he could think about was kissing Shiro. It would be so easy. All he had to do was reach up and touch Shiro’s face, bring his hands to the back of the man’s neck and pull him in. 

So he did. 

Just as Coran started clapping violently from the doorway causing both Shiro and Keith to jolt so obviously that Keith almost landed with his ass on the hardwood (which was much different than his lips landing on Shiro’s which he had literally been a single centimeter away from). 

“Marvelous! Exquisite!” He praised (and luckily it did absolutely zero for Keith in the mental high department). Shiro lowered Keith back to an upright position though his eyes only tore from his reluctantly, and when Keith followed the gaze to Coran, he saw that the man actually had tears in his eyes. Really? “That was just the fit of passion I was looking for! The emotion, the  _ tension _ !” He clenched his fist, shaking it towards the ceiling and Keith wished he could take this opportunity to dissolve back into the wall. 

“Thank you, Coran. I was just helping Keith practice.” Shiro broke their silence, sounding a little sheepish. Keith figured he wasn’t keen on the idea of looking like an instructor who gave out special treatment, which gave Keith a bittersweet feeling in his gut. Would Shiro have danced with anyone else like that? He hoped not. But then again, it wasn’t like he had any staked claim. 

“You were wonderful, Shiro. But  _ you _ , Mister!” Keith instinctively moved closer to Shiro as Coran’s pointer finger jabbed the air in his direction. “ _ You’re _ my Odette!” 

It took approximately five full seconds after Coran’s exclamation before the words sunk into Keith. He had expected actual auditions to be held in a week or so, had already scheduled the time to make sure he could practice at least eight hours every day until then but--

He got the part? 

“Are you--” He started, letting it register completely. “Are you serious?! Oh, shit! That’s awesome, thank you!” Keith rarely showed excitement like this, but he couldn’t help it. He jumped up and down exactly twice before Shiro’s arm snaked around his waist again, giving him a squeeze which stilled him in place.

“Congratulations.” He said through a smile, and Keith beamed at him. 

“Don’t thank me, thank yourself.” Coran was always like that, he was such an advocate for personal achievements. “Actually, I should thank you too. Now that I’ve got my leaf roles out of the way, I’ll have a lot less stress on my shoulders.” 

That got Keith’s attention. 

“Roles? As in-- you cast Siegfried?” Shiro turned a questioning look in Coran’s direction as well.

“Well with chemistry like I just saw, I thought it’d be obvious. Shiro will dance opposite you, of course.” 

It was embarrassing the way Keith felt his heart flutter at the idea. Shiro getting the other lead had never even crossed his mind. Wasn’t he the instructor? Well, he guessed Coran had said  _ guest _ instructor and so it wasn’t like it was against the rules for him to be in the production...

But it still caught him off guard in a way that made Keith know he’d be feeling butterflies for weeks to come. Being able to practice like this every day, dancing with Shiro until they’re both panting and pressed up against the other…sweating… Okay, Keith needed to concentrate at least until this conversation was over. Then his imagination could run wild all night with his hand at home.

So it went without saying that Keith felt like he was on an emotional rollercoaster and caught off guard in shattering disappointment when Shiro said:

“I’m flattered but… I really can’t take you up on that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I knew absolutely fuck-all about ballet before I wrote this fic so I hope I did a good enough job at the position names and everything! If there's anyone who catches something I've titled incorrectly, please don't hesitate to let me know so I can fix it! For more information about my writing along with updates, follow me on Twitter @knottygalra !


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